


On Sharing Beds

by poquimo



Series: Happy Little Experiments [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Implied Relationships, Romantic Friendship, Unresolved Tension, everyone in this story is an alcoholic i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poquimo/pseuds/poquimo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Two of Happy Little Experiments.</p><p>Where Hawke loots some corpses, has romantic bumps with Anders and gets immensely drunk (yet again) and is forced to accept the chivalrous intervention of one concerned dwarf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Sharing Beds

**Author's Note:**

> Next one is Deep Roads/Act 2 time. I've spent enough writing about drunken escapades. It got ridiculous there for a bit, so I may post an interlude at one point with the bits I cut out involving the rest of the party.
> 
> In any event, I'm still sorta feeling out how I want this to go and what the hell I'm doing with these bits of story. Alas, I hope they are at least mildly entertaining!

Things went back to blissful normality then as winter faded and turned to spring-- if one could call being flecked with bandit blood as they rummaged through the pockets of said dead bandits _normal_. Varric supposed he truly meant that he had gone back to vaguely staring through papers as if employed, when really all he wanted was the distraction from the large Bianca sized ache in his heart, and Hawke had gone back to moon-eyeing at Blondie.  
No, that was unfair. Hawke lived in half-hearted certainty now that she'd never get the mage's favor and so had resorted to such blatant and vulgar flirting that it had become as close to a running joke among them as could be. The mage was not within their company today though, but Varric had a funny feeling this whole truck down to Darktown was done with the faint hope of running into him.

"Ha!" came Hawke's triumphant cry as she produced a pouch clinking with gold coins. Bethany hurried over to examine the spoils with her sister, happy to have her fingers off the ragged clothes of the bandits Varric wagered.

"How many are there?"

"Lemme count--"

"This is all wonderfully morbid, but if you have no more need of me today..." Fenris spoke up with grim humor, sheathing his blade across his back as the girls went about claiming their prize. His words brought there attention up and for one moment their shared expression made them look every bit related despite one having been born with a full head of stark black hair and the other a vivid shade of fire red. The expression was the visual representation of, _Oh I'm sorry, didn't see you there._

Fenris was not impressed, but as usual Varric chuckled.

Hawke passed over the purse to Bethany's safe keeping and hurried after the elf who had already decided to take his leave. He even allowed her to gently touch the side of his bare arm where it showed from underneath his armor as she grinned and spoke in a voice too far away for Varric to hear. Fenris laughed, the sound drawing both Bethany's and his attention back over to them and after a moment Hawke returned and Fenris left with a short wave back to the younger Hawke.

"Fenris is on for Diamond Back tonight, you coming Beth?" Hawke said as she overturned a bandit with her boot to lay right side up. Thankfully Darktown provided enough privacy to have their merry way robbing their would be assailants before the guards showed up. She was working on cutting free his purse when Bethany answered, favoring her dominant hand it seemed for some reason as she worked at the strings with her right.

"So we can lose the coin we just gathered?" Bethany said quietly after a moment.  
Hawke frowned and Varric suddenly had a strong desire to be invisible.

"Right... right, here. You take the sovereigns and the silver, I'll keep the bits." Bethany seemed mostly relieved.  
"It is just friendly games. I doubt I'll need more than this."

Siblings. Varric knew the dance well, but they did it with much more grace and love than he and his brother could boast. Bethany trusted Hawke, perhaps more than she should considering how Hawke played at cards... but that wasn't the point. Varric could never know what bond had sealed between them the day their home burned and in running-- they lost their brother. He'd only ever had the one and did not much think what it would be like without Bartrand because-- well, Bartrand was too sleazy to be taken in by anything less than a Blighted ogre himself and since none were ready at hand he hardly imagined a life without him.

Something silent seemed to pass between the sisters in moments like these and after a brief pause Bethany took the offered purse filled with the gold and silver and nodded with a slight smile.

"I haven't been to the Hanged Man in a long while-- might be good to get away from mother and Gamlen for an evening."

Hawke brightened, her smile infectuous as Bethany too turned her own shy one into a grin. They mirrored each other in that respect as well, if no where else.

"30 more gold pieces and you'll have enough to buy on to the Expedition." Varric added from the side enthusiastically and Bethany nodded.

"Right. And then the streets will be paved with gold and the wine will flow like water. You'll drink over priced champagne and piss sovereigns and the peasants will all rejoice the days Lady Bethany Hawke condescends to grace them with her presence."  
"Don't forget the silk. Orlesian silk to match your eyes." Varric added to Hawke's elaborate description. Bethany was laughing now which to outward eyes would have painted a rather frightening picture as they stood surrounded by felled enemies.

"Don't get too excited yet, sis. None of these guys had a sign on them from where they came from. We'll never find their hideaway if we're still here standing about when their friends show up."

Hawke nodded, "True. We'll have a better go of it I think if we come back tomorrow night. I'm sure by then they'll be out for our blood and we can have Fenris beat the shit out of them."

"What am I? Chopped nug liver?" Varric said indignantly, taking a handkerchief from inside his jacket and rubbing off most of the blood from his gloved hands and his face.

"And Bianca can stick them like pigs." she added with a huff, though the answer pleased him well enough. "I think we're done for today though... Bethany would you mind--"

"Oh, go on." the younger Hawke said with a knowing look and a sly smile, "I'm sure he is dying to see you."

The elder only laughed, a half-hearted nervous sound.

"Just come back before nightfall. Mother won't so much as let me sit on the stoop without you when it gets dark." with that said, Bethany tucked the coin purse hidden away and headed towards the lift that would take her into Lowtown.

Varric fell into step alongside Hawke without a word as they turned their paths towards the Darktown clinic.

"... we've saved quite a bit, but Bethany is always so frugal now when it comes down to a single bit." Hawke said, easily speaking her mind. Varric had never been sure what to think of how quickly she spoke of her thoughts to others, but had gradually come to realize he was in fact-- a special case.

"Once this expedition is paid for and done she'll never want for anything again. It's-- a learned thing. It comes from poverty. You can't expect her to sit by and wait for big sis to do everything for her."  
Varric offered, trying to make sure his tone was not chiding.  
Hawke sighed, "But I _like_ doing everything for her. It-- Bethany has not had it easy either. Perhaps most of all. Maker, it was her birthday a few weeks ago and... and even now we can't get her to celebrate it." Hawke scowled, "It doesn't help that mother spends the better part of the day in mourning. I... I know I should not hate her for it, but sometimes I wish she'd put aside her own grief for one _bloody_ minute and see how much Bethany is hurting."

Varric frowned, "And what about you?"  
Hawke hummed and shrugged, content to leave it at that when Varric took ahold of her hand and stopped her. She made a few mixed expressions before looking promptly away and breathing out slowly.

"I-- I just want to go see Anders and play Diamond back and drink until I can't sit up right."  
"Sounds healthy."  
"Oh, don't cluck over me, mother hen. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."  
Varric let go of her hand.

"Doesn't mean you always have to." he grumbled, "But have it your way, I'll see you tonight. Try not to make blondie kill any patients."

Hawke normally would have grinned and quipped some joke about all the raunchy terrible puns and one liners she had planned at the Anders' expense, but instead she merely muttered a quick "See you." and walked on. That was the day Varric learned that any and all boundaries between them were to be established by Hawke it seemed. He didn't much like the arrangement.  
***

The patient intake at the clinic was slow that day, with only one or two cots claimed. One was a boy with an arm on the mend, flipping through a book with pages and diagrams of the human body that was surely one of Anders' own making. The other patient was a pregnant young woman who the mage was tending to that moment.

She seemed healthy enough to her eyes, but Hawke hung back near the entrance and watched with interest as Anders held the woman's wrist between his fingers and seemed to count silently. He then gently touched around the growing swell of the woman's belly and talked in a low voice to her to which she responded with a few nods.

"Everything seems to be going perfectly. I imagine you won't be seeing me again until the baby is ready to be born... but don't hesitate to come back if you have any other questions or complications. Alright?"

The girl was young, maybe even younger than Hawke herself and visibly nervous. Ferelden by the look of her, Hawke felt her heart tinge with sympathy. What was either the girls brother or lover stood at her side and offered her comfort, though it hardly seemed to quell her. She left with him after thanking Anders profusely several times and attempting to pay for his service with a meager lot of three bits. The mage had none of it and saw her out, his eyes catching Hawke in the corner. She saluted lazily at him.

"What did you sprain this time?" he asked, amusement tinging his voice as he took his time to come back to her. Hawke rolled her eyes though and pushed off the wall she leaned on to meet him.

"Can't a girl go on a rousing walk in Darktown without injury?"

"Generally they _start_ that way."

Hawke laughed, "I think I broke a finger... or two, actually. Jammed it up nice trying to get a lock undone. The damn thing had bite."

She had failed to mention it to Bethany or even Varric, tugging off the bracer around her wrist and then the padded glove that protected her hands. Her ring and middle finger were bound up crudely and Anders looked on them disapprovingly.

"Why do you always insist on seeing to it? You should have come to me first thing."

He took her hand in his own, gently undoing the bindings as Hawke winced and bit inside her cheek until she tasted copper.

"I can take care of myself." she repeated her the words she said to Varric, trying not to whimper as Anders touched the black and blue brusing around her knuckles and up along each digit.

"You're lucky they seem to be at least healing _straight._ " he said with relief, "So help me, Hawke if you do this again and I have to break your fingers over--"  
The look he gave her told Hawke well enough that the very idea of it pained him. She swallowed faintly and her eyes softened. She felt rightly put out now, remembering what Varric had said and Bethany.

"I can take care of _myself_." she asserted again, this time harsher and defiant. Anders hands glowed brightly with soft white-blue light, the light faint upon her own hands as he worked his magic into the break. She felt a flood of cool healing magic ripple over her skin and the dull pain ebbed away in her bones as the swelling and brightly colored bruises faded. Hawke watched with silent fascination as her fingers mended and felt her eyes nearly close at the soothing warmth that followed the cooling sensation.

"... I know you can. You just don't always have to."

The healing magic began to subside and without a thought Hawke spoke up softly,

"Don't stop."

Anders froze, eyes flicking up to meet hers as she stared back at him. Her own eyes were dancing with mischief and her skin had flushed. Hawke even risked a faint smile, certain she could have pinpointed the exact moment Anders' heart began to race.

"No. Don't go there. This-- this isn't going to end well." he released her hand then and stepped back. "I'll hurt you."

"Maybe I'll like it." Hawke said, smiling still. Anders looked less flustered and more-- pained than usual. As if he was struggling through each breath and each word. Hawke felt her smile fail her as she watched him move even further from her. 

"... you saw what I did that night in the Chantry. With Karl. That is who _I am_ now." Anders gestured at himself, paused, and then pressed his fingertips to his temples as Hawke said nothing in protest or agreement. He never did seem to know what to do with his hands when he spoke to her.

"I let this go on too long. The jokes-- the flirting... it has to stop. Maybe a year ago we could have had something, but..." he closed his eyes and took a deep breath then reopened them, faced now with her expression. Disappointment; sadness; possibly even some lingering embarrassment at the fact she was being quite thoroughly rejected. It made his heart throb and his words come reluctantly.

"I'm not that man anymore. I'll break you heart."

He turned and walked back into the clinic , speaking so faint she almost didn't hear him.  
"...and that might kill me as surely as the Templars."

 

***

It was Isabela who would peel her off the bar counter in the Hanged Man later, mumbling and bemoaning her stupidity in half slurred speech. It was a busy night for the tavern, but Varric, Fenris, Merrill and Bethany had yet to arrive. Isabela had guided her over to a table instead and left once more only to return with a tankard-- full of water.

"Now, tell mother all about it." she cooed. Hawke scoffed around the water in her mouth as she drank deeply.

"It seems I just couldn't take a hint."

"He did help lead it along." Isabela said, resting a warm hand on Hawke's forearm.

"Maybe he is right. Maybe I shouldn't get involved-- but it feels like I _already_ am involved, ya know? Like. I wouldn't say I'm in love with him, but I--"

Isabela was watching her with her chin in her hands, a smile plastered across her lips. Hawke's words trailed off as she narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not in love with him."

"You keep right on telling yourself that, sweetie."

"Isa-- how could I be in love with him? I've barely known him half a year! I just wanted to-- oh bother it, I don't know what I wanted." she went to take another drink and frowned at the contents, "Andraste's flaming ass, will you get me a _real_ drink?"

"You were just hoping to jump his bones. I know, Hawke. You're so cute when you get flustered. I just want to eat you right up."

"That would probably be the piss-water beer I've been drinking the past hour." Hawke offered, that dry humorless way in which she spoke when her sunny disposition was no where to be found rearing its head.

"You know what they say. Men? Are like puppies--"

"Oh, I _knew_ he got that from you!"

As if summoned by her very words, Fenris and Varric came through the front door with Merrill and Bethany at their heels chatting away. Fenris seemed to be distant from the ongoing conversation, but his face lighted somewhat as Isabela winked at him from across the room.

" _Hello_ gorgeous." Isabela said beneath her breath, eyes not leaving the warrior.  
Hawke took the opportunity, "You two are so adorable. I'll fetch my needles and start sewing booties for the upcoming nuptials."

"You're hilarious." Isabela snorted and then huffed out a frustrated sigh, "I haven't managed to get him into bed yet, but when I do I plan to find out if he glows when I get my lips around that--"

"--Bethany! Merrill! Hello, hi. How was the walk back? Was mother impressed by our take for the day? Here you can sit down next to me and we have more drinks coming I wager-- where is that serving girl?"

The two women were startled by Hawke's sudden and cheery invitation and also by the sudden outburst of laughter from Isabela as she pushed herself up from the table. Hawke's desire to keep her dear sweet sister's ears clean from Isabela's more raunchy desires for the elf was understandable, though Bethany would never have thanked her for it.

"I'll get them. You all enjoy the clink of coin in your pockets now before I snatch every bit."

 

***

The Hanged Man had cleared of most patrons and what remained were being shoveled out the door so the barmaids could go home and get some well deserved sleep. Bethany and Merrill had both left hours before, escorted by Isabela so as to give Fenris, Varric and Hawke a chance to play against each other for their meager lots. Only one would go on to face Isabela with coin in hand-- and sadly, Varric, despite reigning supreme over the other two, lost it all to her. Fenris had gone only moments ago, despite Isabela's pleadings he come back to her room at the Blooming Rose for one last hand. Both had gone their separate ways leaving Hawke and Varric at the table, bemoaning their losses.

“That wo-- woman is a fiend.” Hawke said, positively sloshed in every respect as she knocked over a tankard standing up.

“Trust me,” Varric's arm came up, his hand pressing to her lower back to steady Hawke, “I'm already a tingle with new strategies on how to wipe the floor with her.” 

“Mmph, good. At least she was buying-- though I guess since it was _our_ money, more like... we were buying.”

The fire was the only light that remained to light the rough unpolished wooden floors of the Hanged Man. The embers were growing faint, but firstlight would not be but a few hours away. The thought of sun in her face made Hawke feel like groaning and retching all at the same time, so she kept the sound in and hopefully would keep in the rest. Oddly though, as the dwarf directed her with a gentle push to her back she noted he was not directing her to the front door, but to the stairs.

“Back exit is for-- for “free drink'd” guards.” she slurred, not stopping the man from taking her arm and settling it around his broad shoulders. It was easy to lean on him and he did not seem at all burdened by her added weight.

“Your mother would have me flayed if I let you stumble back home. Your drunker than an Antivan fishwife on Summersend and I'm only _slightly_ better and in no fit shape to play bodyguard.”

It took some manuvering to get Hawke up the steps as her legs seemed quite more taken to the idea of tangling beneath her. It was a shock that someone so dexterous on the battlefield didn't seem to quite know which foot went where, but Varric had to confess-- it was disgusting shit, but it was potent shit they served here. His vision was blurred around the edges and the whole world seemed to tilt abruptly with every sway of Hawke's body as he held her up. She clung to him a bit more closely as they ascended the stairs and he was grateful for it.

“You can sleep in my room, but if you hurl on my floor you'll be swabbing the decks til mid-afternoon. Hangover or not.”

Hawke snorted and exploded in a fit of quiet giggles, “ _Swabbing the deck_. Aye, Captain.”

In retrospect, he could have probably dumped her in one of the back rooms and no one would have been the wiser. However, Varric didn't much like the idea of her losing it on his floor let alone a floor he didn't pay every month for. He made to settle her down right on the edge of his own bed, but Hawke refused to budge.

“Wait- wait. I'm all about having a sleep over, but-- give me a blanket and I'll be fine in a chair. I've slept in far far worse.”

“You sounded almost sober right there.” Varric observed, removing himself as her balance so that she either had to sit on the bed or fall over. She chose the bed.

“Varric--”

“Look, I know if someone gave you a flea invested rag you'd find a way to make yourself comfortable. Not the point. Lay down, enjoy having a proper bed for a night and make sure you don't vomit in my sheets. I get the peace of mind of knowing you aren't being robbed by the idiots who think they run the streets at dark, and you get to sleep it off in the luxury only the Tethras name can buy.”

Hawke smiled at that, “Oh, truly? The Tethras Family best?”

“Noble riches rated second to none. Now, go to sleep before I change my mind.”

Varric moved behind the standing wall in the middle of the room and left Hawke to her own devices. He shrugged off his duster and tossed it over a chair then sat down in it to work at his boots. He could hear the sounds of the blankets being pulled back along with the rustle of clothes and the dull thud of boots being kicked unceremoniously off and into the side of a wall.

He stood up and pulled an accounting book from a nearby shelf and let it fall open on the table before sitting back down, uncertain whether he should even bother with sums when the world was still slightly spinning. Varric was not one to fall off into restful sleep when he'd been drinking and honestly the idea of putting it off because of this was not a terrible one. He hummed Bianca's Song faintly as he removed his gloves to better handle the paper as he turned the pages to the most recent day.

“Varric?” 

He gave a start only on account of how _close_ Hawke had managed to slip up to him without his noticing. In her hands was a blanket pulled from his own bed.

“Maker, you managed to get all the way over here by yourself? You are growing up so fast.” he chuckled, trying to ignore the fact he was pretty well certain Hawke was standing before him in nothing but her smalls and her shirt. The blanket covered her from the waist down, save for a sliver of a glimpse of bare leg behind the blanket. Varric turned his eyes quickly away lest she catch him in the stare.

She was smiling at him when he did. _Maker, not again._.  
“You know... it is a big bed. I'm certain I have been full up on my cootie ward this month and I am imposing on you.”

“It isn't--” and Varric found he had to swallow to regain some moisture to his mouth, “... I mean you aren't. I offered.”

It wasn't lust or wanting that coated his tongue with sand however, but anxiety. Sheer plain fear that she was starting to give up her pursuit of the mage and would try her luck with-- Maker forbid-- _him_. She never seemed to show a spit of interest in him on regular day, at least not in the way she did Blondie. It was confusing-- as was the fact that some small part of him almost wanted to accept her offer. He was distracted by how his fingers, now free of his gloves, itched to just-- touch her. To smooth through her hair and feel her relax and hold to him as she did when he let her lean on him. He wanted to make her safe. Above all else he always wanted her to be safe and-- happy. She rarely was both. It was a peculiar feeling he could not claim to bare any resemblance to the powerful and aching throb Bianca's memory surged through him, but it was... it was something. Something he couldn't put his finger on.

Hawke shifted from side to side-- or wobbled, it was hard to tell. She seemed to take his continued silence as the last she'd hear on it and shrugged.

“Suit yourself.” she said, almost with an air of disappointment. She set the blanket on the table next to his coat and Varric stared down at the ledger as if it was the most fucking fascinating thing this side of Thedas as she walked back around to his bedroom.


End file.
